You're Beautiful
by Caramel Candy
Summary: Nick and Miley were left alone at the Jonas' household, and Nick stuggles to convince Miley she is, in fact, beautiful. It's amazing how much can happen when one says 'I'm not beautiful'. Esspecially with these two. Niley. One-shot.


Disclaimer: I still don't own Hannah Montana

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Hannah Montana. I know. Honestly, these disclaimers are constant reminders of what I don't have. I'd rather we post things we **_**do**_** own. To make us feel better. Don't you agree?**

**Authors Note**: I promised a one-shot and here it is. This one took me a while to write. In this one Miley and Nick are 21 years old, so it takes place in the future. Also, this story is a bit more, er, intense than my other stories. So if you aren't allowed to read them kind of stories, consider this a warning. And one more thing, this story is entirely in Nick's point of view.

You're Beautiful 

Sunlight was streaming into the room, lighting ever corner. The window pane was opened, allowing a warm breeze to drift into the room. The fresh smell of baked chocolate cookies wafted into the room, though the front door, courtesy of my mom who was downstairs. Four other people were scattered throughout the room. My younger twelve year old brother sat in front of the big-screen high definition television, his eyes glued to the screen as a hockey games took place. Two couple sat in the room with the young boy, one near the television, sitting on a rather large couch. The other and last couple, however, sat at the far end of the room, snuggled together in a bean-bag chair.

"Frank, you'd better watch out. You're team is going to lose." My other brother Joseph Jonas cried from his seat on the couch, next to his blond girlfriend.

Frankie turned around to glare at his older brother. "No way, Joe. The Red Wings are at the top of their division. There is _no _way they're going to lose to the Oilers."

"Ah, yes, but the Oilers have been doing fantastic during overtime games. They've one almost every game that had ever gone to OT this season." Joe informed our younger brother, a smirk on his face.

"Yes, but, the Wings have good offence and even better defence. The Oilers were lucky to get the puck past them this whole while." Lilly replied, poking her boyfriend in the side.

"Listen to your girlfriend, Joe. She knows what she's talking about." Frankie grinned, turning around to look at his brother. Joe was gaping down at Lilly, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Don't look so surprised, Jonas. Hockey has always been a hobby of mine." Lilly remarked. "But, the Oilers chances are good enough, Frankie; maybe enough to win the game."

"You're supposed to be on _my_ side, Lilly." Joe pouted. "You're supposed to be my girlfriend."

"But I am," Lilly argued as she leaned up to kiss his putting lips. "But just because I'm your girlfriend doesn't mean that I can't be honest with your brother."

Joe ignored her response turning his attention back to the television, just in time to witness Ales Hemsky from the Oilers pass the puck to his team mate Fernando Pisani as he went past the blue line on a breakaway. Moments later, Pisani was skating away from the goaltender his hands raised in the air as his team bombarded him with hugs. Joe jumped up, waving his hands in the air, and did a victory lap around the game room.

"I won the bet. Let's go Oilers. I knew Ferni wouldn't let me down." Joe exclaimed as he ran past the beanie bag Miley and I were cuddled up in. We studiously ignored him, focusing our attention on each other, rather than the grown adult running around the room.

"Joseph Jonas, calm down right now." Lilly cried as she struggled to conceal the grin that was threatening to slip onto her face.

"I won," Joe repeated loudly as he ran past his brother Frankie, who was grumbling and glaring at the television screen. "Fork up the cash, Tank."

"I have to grab it from my wallet," Frankie muttered as he rose from his seat on the floor. He also ignored his older brother's responses as he stalked out of the room.

"Hurry up, Frankster. We have to get going really soon if we want to make it to Melanie's soccer game." Lilly called after him. He nodded quickly before exiting the room. "Joe, calm down, please."

"But I won," Joe replied breathlessly. His eyes were shinning as a grin sat on his face.

"I know, babe. But you need to breathe please." Lilly smiled, patting his arm. "You can allow yourself to get hyped up at Mel's soccer game."

"Oh, I forgot about that. It's in thirty minutes," Joe glanced at his watch. "We'd better get going."

"Yes, we should." Lilly agreed as she lifted herself off the couch. "Miles, Nick, are you two coming along?"

"Where to?" I asked, turning away from my girlfriend.

"Melanie's soccer game starts in a half-hour. We need to get going right now if we're going to make it on time." Joe replied, grasping Lilly's hand and tugging her towards the door.

"No, I don't think we will go today," I answered, my hands grazing Miley's arms, her eyes closed in contentment as she laid in my arms.

"You're sure?" Lilly pressed, struggling to remain in the room to here our response, but Joe was making it very difficult as he tugged on her hand.

"Hmm," Miley said quietly. "Yes. But be sure to tell Melanie to win for us and score a couple of goals."

"Sure," Lilly smiled at us , allowing Joe to pull her out of the room. "You two have fun, but not _too_ much fun."

"Remember guys," Joe called as he walked out of the room. "The safest se is _no_ sex."

Lilly laughed, playfully hitting his arm as she shut the door behind her. And then they were gone; leaving Miley and me alone in the room, together.

"You have no clue how long I was waiting for them to leave us alone already." I bent down kissing behind her ear.

"I think I might have an idea," Miley looked up at me, her blue eyes darkening with sudden desire.

I grinned, leaning down and capturing her lips with my own. My smooth lips covered hers, kissing her slowly and passionately. Butterflies exploded in my stomach, goose bumps erupted on my arms as Miley gently grabbed hold of them to prevent herself from falling off the chair. My arms tightened around Miley's waist as I shifted slightly, flipping her over so my body hovered over hers, our lips still attached in a heated kiss.

My hands reached up, running themselves through her long brown hair. Miley's small fingers were curled around my muscular arms as she tried to hold herself into place. Much too soon—at least in my mind—we broke apart, due to sudden lack of air. Panting faintly, I gazed down at Miley, love scorching in my chocolate eyes. My hand rose, leaving her hair, and gently brushed across her cheek. A blush crept onto Miley's face a she shifted under my intense gaze.

"What's wrong?" Miley asked, concern leaking into her voice. The passion in my eyes must have been a tad bit frightening.

"Nothing," I answered softly as I continued to stroke her face. "You're just so beautiful."

The blush on Miley's face darkened as she met my eyes. "Don't say that."

"Why not?" I asked, confused. What was wrong with calling her beautiful? She should know what I thought of her. She should know that I thought she was the most gorgeous creature alive.

"It's not true," Miley replied, her eyes leaving mine. She hadn't wanted to witness my reaction, but it was true. She thought she was far from beautiful. She thought that if anything, Hannah Montana was beautiful with her long flowing golden locks, her shining aqua eyes that compliment her skin tone and hair shade perfectly. To her Hannah was flawless, and that might have been odd, considering that Hannah and Miley is the same person—technically. And she believed it was true, unfortunately.

My eyes widened in disbelief at Miley's response; surely, she wasn't serious. Unquestionably, she wasn't aware of her beauty both inside and out. How could someone so amazing not be aware of the effect that she had on people. I shook my head, my thoughts flying. Why would she have _ever _assumed such a thing? What on earth had led her to believe that she was not truly beautiful? The effect that she had on me and the rest of the male population should have been enough proof.

"What are you talking about, Miley. Those are the truest words ever to be spoken." I answered, love burning my voice. "You _are_ beautiful, Miley, and don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

"You _have_ to say that, though. You're my boyfriend, it's your job." Miley frowned. She was yet to believe me, but I was not going to give up just yet of course. I was certain that by the end of the day—or until we were to leave this room—she would know that she was beautiful and she would _believe_ it.

"That's true," I sighed in mock sadness. Miley's eyes snapped up to meet mine as I gently twirled a stand of her hair around my finger. She definitely wasn't expecting that answer from me. "But, it doesn't mean I have to mean it. And I do, by the way. You _are_ beautiful."

Miley continued to stare at me, her eyes gazing into mine. I was slightly surprised she hadn't turned away already. Whenever I'd ever looked at her with such intensity she would turn away as the red blush flew onto her cheeks. But not today. Here she lay in my arms, blush plastered on her face, her eyes shining, looking into my eyes. I felt my heart flutter as I watched her. How could someone be so beautiful and not know it?

"_You_ are amazing," she whispered her eyes still glued to mine. Then in one swift movement, she grasped my arms, leaned forward and pressed her velvet lips to mine. My heart stopped, my eyes widening to her boldness. During our intimate moments, I was usually the one to draw her into a kiss, and she surprised me at her sudden bravery.

My senses then started up again, overruled by the temporary stillness. One of my arms left her waist and moved up to her face, cupping her warm check gently. My thumb stroked her check as my other hand stayed planted firmly on her waist. She was kissing me fervently as if she were desperately trying to show me something. One of her hands was in my hair, running through it, sending a tingling sensation down my spine. Her other hand lay on my chest, keeping her in place as she continued to kiss me with such passion.

Miley then flipped _me_ over, so that my back was lying on the bean-bag and she was on top of me. Her long perfect legs straddled my waist as her two hands grazed my arms lightly, running up and down them. If her last move were considered brave I had no idea where this would classify. This was different, Miley was a fierce girl, but she was never this feisty. I pulled away from her, gasping for air. I had forgotten about our human need for oxygen while she was kissing me. Her kisses had a tendency of doing that.

Miley was still on top of my, her hand on my chest, the other still on my arm. She was staring down at me again, love and passion blazing in her vibrant eyes. My breaths shortened as I watched her. Her hand was tracing small patterns on my chest—which was very distracting might I add—as I struggled to figure out what had caused her to act with such forwardness. The time Miley and I usually spent alone was spent talking or just sitting there in a comfortable silence. Sure, we had made out several times, but never had they been like this. They were usually much more preserved and calm. But this…this was exhilarating. Miley's chest heaved as she also tried to regain her breath. Her eyes were dark with passion, her hand still on my chest. I couldn't control myself as I reached up, gently grabbing her face, and pulled her face to mine kissing her again.

Miley's legs tightened their hold around my waist as she pressed herself against me. Her hands left my chest and arm and made their past my shoulders, over my neck and into my hair as her fingers massage my scalp. My hands were still on her face, holding her closer to me, as I turned us over once more so that I was on top once again. I heard Miley gasp, her legs still wrapped around me, as her hands froze on my head. I pulled away, smirking down at her. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, before a sly smile crept onto her face.

"A little frisky there, Jonas." She whispered as she leaned up kissing me again. I hadn't even tried to come up with a witty remark; my mind became hazy as her lips moved over mine. I slowly ran my tongue over her lower lip, asking for access. I felt her lip tremble before granting me admission. My tongue slid into her hot mouth, her own tongue meeting my own half way. A vicious battle of fervour began, and I felt myself grow harder as she pulled my closer to herself, her chest pressed up against mine.

Her hands slowly left my hair, hesitantly, sliding down over my chest toward the hem of my shirt. I pulled my mouth away from hers, before attacking her neck with more fierce kisses. I was distantly aware of her hands fingering the hem of my Ralph Lauren polo as my mouth moved across her collar bone. Her breaths her loud as her chest heaved beneath mine. As of my kisses had given her a rush of courage, she pulled my shirt up and over my head. I smiled coyly at her forwardness, before resuming my lips to her neck.

Miley's hands spread out, her fingers moving lightly across my lower abdomen. She seemed to have been taking her time exploring my shirtless body, as if she were searching for treasure. My lips moved up her collarbone, before landing on her pulse point. I placed my wet lips over it, lightly flicking my tongue across her skin. I felt Miley gasp as I began to suck deeply on her neck, my teeth grazing her hot skin. I could feel her small hands on my chest, her nails clawing my skin as she gasped for air.

"Nick," she moaned her eyes squeezed shut. A smile slipped onto my face at the sound she produced. I silently thanked God that we were home alone. My parents had gone with Joe, Lilly and Frankie to Melanie's soccer game.

I slowly, gradually, lifted my mouth of her neck looking down. A red mark stood where my mouth had previously been, a token or a souvenir to remind her of this afternoon. One we've never shared, a first of many to come. Her eyes opened and she smiled when she found me watching her. God, she looked to beautiful right now. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes glistening as she watched me. Her brunette locks were fanned out around her head and over the chair.

Her breathing began to return to normal, her hands still over my bare chest, her mouth slightly open. My eyes moved down her face and landed on her lips. Not allowing her a chance to do anything else, I dove in taking her lips in mine. This kiss was much more avid than the previous ones. Her hot wet mouth moved over mine, her hands moving down my chest toward my stomach. Wherever her hands touched burned my skin. My heart pounded in my chest loud and clear, I was almost sure that she could hear it. We continued with our fervent kiss as she hand slipped deeper and deeper down my body. Soon enough they were over my abdomen, and that was when her hands fanned out. Cautiously, her hand moved down grabbed my belt buckle as she fumbled around, her fingers struggling to open it.

My hands gently snapped her wrist as I drew my mouth away from hers. I looked down at her, my hands still enclosed over her wrist. I almost smiled when I saw her reaction. A scared look was on her face, she looked distinctly like a deer caught in headlights. I leaned in giving her a small peck on the lips.

"Miley, you know we can't do this," I whispered, my lips hovering over hers.

"I know," she breathed, her eyes dropping shut. I pulled my hands up, kissing her palms before pulling myself off her. I let go of her wrist, before settling myself next to her, and wrapping my arms around her waist. She shifted about, trying to allow herself to become more comfortable in my arms—which never took much to long.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her face hidden under my arm.

I lifted my arm up slightly, revealing her flushed face. I smoothed a few strands of hair away from her face, smiling down at her. "Don't be."

"I just got caught up in the moment, I guess. I mean with everything that you were doing, with the way you were kissing me..." She trailed of, her face growing redder.

I smirked at her. "Oh, so this is _my _fault."

Miley smiled back to me. "Obviously, you put this upon yourself. You know how I lose control around you."

"Kind of like how I do around you?" I whispered slyly in her ear my warm breath fanning her cheeks.

"Stop it," she answered, turning her head to face me. "You're being unfair."

"Oh, am I now?" I raised an eyebrow at her. Her face was mere inches away from mine. She must have suddenly realised the proximity too, because her eyes expanded a bit and her breaths began growing ragged.

"Yes," she replied, struggling to keep her breathing normal. "Very unfair."

I leaned in closer, our lips centimetres apart. My eyes slid down her face and landed on her lips, watching them. "How so?"

"You are being very mean right now," she told me breathlessly. "You _know_ that I want you and you acting like that won't help the matter at hand."

"You_ want_ me?" I asked my eyebrow rose again. I know all along that she wanted me—that she urged for me but she had never openly admitted it. It was a hidden secret that lay in her eyes, a secret that I saw every time she kissed me, she held me, and she looked at me.

As if she had just then realised what she said, her eyes widened, her mouth parting. "Oh, my god. I did not just say that aloud."

"Yes, you did." I confirmed, smirking, my mouth still hovering over hers.

"Well—you—Hadn't I—ugh!" She cried. "Yes, I do want you."

"Hmm," I pretended to look thoughtful. "Interesting."

Miley growled. "I just tell you that I want to give my body away to you and you say that it's _interesting_?"

I looked down at her innocently. "What did you want me to say?"

"That you want me back!" She exclaimed loudly. She was yet to move from her spot, which allowed me full access to her lips. But she clearly wasn't aware of that—and if she was, she was doing a fine job hiding it.

I leaned in the tiniest bit forward, we were so close, our lips practically touching. "But you already know that, of course."

I hadn't allowed her a chance to respond, since I had closed the remaining—tiny—space between us. My lips were on hers, moving slowly and tenderly. This kiss was different that the preceding kisses. This one was unhurried and deliberate. It was supposed to be short and sweet, which was why I ended it early, before anything else could evolve from the kiss.

Miley smiled at me. "So I'm that beautiful?"

The question surprised me. I hadn't expected her to ask that of all questions. "Much more beautiful."

"Can I ask one more question?" she inquired, jutting out her bottom lip when I gave her a thoughtful look.

"Of course," I smiled at her, pulling her closer. I buried my face in her hair, my cheek against her neck. She snuggled closer to me, grabbing my hands in her own before speaking.

"Why is it that you love me so much?" She questioned curiosity evident in her voice.

I stiffened beneath her, and Miley read this as a bad sign. "Not that I doubt your love for me or anything." She assured me quickly. "I was just curious. I mean, you _are_ Nick Jonas after all. All the girls around the world would want you—"

"But I don't care for all those girls. I only need you." I interrupted.

"Well, sure, but _why_ is it that you only want me," she insisted. "What is it about me that attract you to me? Why is it you love about me so much?"

"Everything," I answered simply. Miley opened her mouth to protest, so I rushed on to continue. "Your eyes, your smile, you everlasting blush. There are a lot of things."

Miley cuddled closer to me, burying her face in my side. "I have time."

I smiled down at her, the wonderful angel in my arms. I picked up a stray lock of hair, and began twisting it around my finger. "I love your long brown hair. It's soft, smooth, and it smells like citrus, which is a complete turn on. I love you sweet smiles, your tinkling laugh. I love the way your eyes shine when you're around me. I love you warm heart and your ability to love everyone unconditionally. I love that you can easily accept people, and are not judgemental. I love that you are open-minded. I love that you believe in me.

"I love that you will stop whatever you are doing to help someone in need. I love you positive outlook in life. I love how your accent is so strong when you're angry. I love how stubborn you are, and how you stand up for what you believe in and what you think is right no matter what anyone else things. I love that your so care-free and have a good sense of humour too." I paused.

"That's a lot of reasons," Miley murmured from inside my arm.

"Yes, they are. And there are plenty more, but they would take a life-time to list." I replied, tugging her hair lightly. "But the most important reason that I am here is because I am in love with you. Completely and entirely; and there's nothing I can do about it—Nothing I want to do about it either."

"Good," Miley mumbled, pulling my arm away from her face. A sweet pool of red covered her cheeks from my small speech. "There's nothing I want you to do about it."

I looked down at her, my eyes boring into hers. This time, like earlier, Miley refused to look away and held my gaze. I unintentionally leaned in, stopping when my lips were millimetres away from hers, almost touching. This whole time neither of us broke the gaze that we were held in. I breathed out lightly, my breath wiping over her lips, my eyes burning with love and adoration for the wondrous creature before me.

"Stop it," she whispered again. "Stop that. It's unfair."

"What is," I breathed. My eyes refused to leave hers; I wanted her to be able to know how much I loved her. My heart wasn't lying when I told you she was everything to me. And she was having doubt, I'm sure, and we simply could not have that—I couldn't have that. They say the heart if the window to ones soul, to ones heart. She had to see the love I had for her, the desire I possessed for her; ones that only my eyes and heart could portray.

"The way you're looking at me. How close you are. You're doing that thing with your eyes that you always do. You know I can't think right when you do that," she complained. "You need to stop it before I forget how to breathe permanently."

I grinned at her, moving my lips away from hers. I saw disappointment flood her eyes as she watched me pull away. She had thought I was going to kiss her, which I would have. But, I suppose it would be safe to tease her for a bit.

"I'm dazzling you." I proclaimed loudly, holding my head in triumph.

Miley snorted, unattractively. "Who are you now? Edward Cullen?"

"Obviously not," I answered airily. "I am much better."

Miley snorted once more, her face scrunch up in an adorable manner as she looked at me. "Are you sure about that?"

I nodded, confidently. "I am, after all, the one person who stole your heart and managed to hold it. Plus, I'm no book character."

"True," Miley agreed. "But, you don't have to be real people to have girls fall in love with you. Millions of girls in the world are in love with Edward Cullen, if not all."

"But _you_ love me, and that's all that matters." I informed her. "If I've got you, I don't need the rest of those girls. I only need you."

"I do love you," Miley smiled at me tapping me on the nose. "You're so sweet."

"I know," I rolled my eyes in mock arrogance. But my face quickly changed all traces of teasing gone. "Do you think you can answer on question for me?"

"Of course," Miley replied easily. I nodded, pulling away from her. Miley made a noise of objection, clinging to me. I peeled myself away from her, ignoring protests, pressing my lips to her forehead before stepping back.

"Miley," I began, my tone sombre and firm. "I love you more than anything in the world. You the only thing that I need to survive. You're not my everything—you're my only thing. Words cannot describe the way you make me feel, the comfort that I find in your embrace. I _need_ you in my life, for forever. Which is why I need to know?" I paused.

I looked down at Miley, the sole purpose for my existence—my lover, my best friend, my angel, my life. I needed her for reasons than one. She was all I had and all I wanted. I reached into my pocket, producing a small velvet box. I bent down, landing on my left leg. I looked up at her, her eyes widened tears already filling them, a hand over her mouth as she watched me. God, how I loved her. I wanted to spend the rest of my life loving her. Our love _would_ last; for forever and more.

"Will you marry me?"

--&--

**Authors Note**: I am done! There we go. I am finally done. This idea has been swimming in my head for a while (along with several others) but it seemed like the best one. It's a bit more graphic during the middle than my other stories. I hope that went over alright. Also, this is my first story on that in one person point of view! Hooray! Tell me how that passed over, if you all think it went well, I might do a few mother of my stories in one certain character's point of view.

Hmm. Seems like everyone's adding songs in their stories, to form a play list or something. I guess I'll join in. The songs I was listening to while revising this were _Angels_, the David Archuleta version. _I've Got You_—Mcfly (I adore those boys.) and _I Wanna Grow Old With You_—Westlife. Check out those songs.

Wow. Long authors note, hey? My first and second one. Well, I'll let you guys go. Thank you for reading and please leave a review for me.

Hugs and Kisses

--Caramel161


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